Everything Green
by Mrs. Abject
Summary: It's difficult raising a child, even more so when you're just a child yourself. Noa looks for some guidance.
1. The First Day

**Everything Green**

**1**. The First Day

Rating: K? I don't know, there's no language or death, and nobody gets frisky.  
Warnings: Babies are messy, and somewhat unpleasant. Spoilers.  
Disclaimer: I may own a copy of Legaia soon, because it's not too expensive on eBay. However, I still don't own rights.  
A/N: It's going to be this short, barely multichapter thing, based off of the (spoiler) ending where Noa runs off with baby Cort, unless this happens in all of the endings. Probably compliant with Destruction Again. Review, because it's Christmas.

* * *

Noa's been seeing green in everything. Clothes, jewelry, the plants and trees: it's everywhere. And it's not just those things that are green no matter which way you look at it, either. No, she sees a hint of green in the reflection on a lake, or in a shadow so dark, it could really be any color, or in the sky when it's so blue that it almost seems to need a dash of yellow to even it out.

She's not denying what happened to Terra. She's not forgetting that Terra's gone. It's just that everything seems to _look_ like Terra lately.

When Cort opens his eyes, one of them is green, too. It's late at night, and he's screaming and crying and flailing around in his crib, and his eyes open for a second, and see? Green again. Noa takes him into her arms, rocking and swaying, and she hums a little tune. It's off-key, and she can't really remember the words, but she's not doing badly for herself. As she holds him, he hits out at her with his tiny little baby fists, and of course it doesn't hurt her, but he won't stop it, he won't sleep. And as long as he can't sleep, then neither can she.

_Was that too fast? _she wonders. _Or… maybe he didn't like my song? _There are other questions she won't ask herself. If he was sick, or hurt, she would have no idea what to do. Or maybe there's something vital that she's forgetting, something that nobody had ever told her to do, but that was still the most important thing to know when raising a child. It wouldn't surprise her.

There's also the question of whether Cort simply hates her. She refuses to think about it, but the worry keeps floating through her mind, louder and louder every time she tries to push it away.

* * *

He threw up earlier in the day, but it didn't mean he was sick, it was just what babies do. Noa is learning these things that babies do, or anyway, she's trying. She scrambled around, cleaning up after him and fishing around in the drawers for the soap, and where, oh where did she put that towel? By the time everything was clean, there was a diaper to change (again?) and Noa suddenly realized that there were no clean diapers left. She'd bought them just a couple of days ago, and it was much too soon for them to be gone already. Wasn't it? It didn't matter, the diapers were gone, and she needed to go out and get some more, but she couldn't just leave Cort without anything. She wrapped his bottom in one of her shirts that she liked least, since none of the towels were clean anymore. Then, still wearing what she slept in, she scrambled out the door to the marketplace with Cort in her arms, who was bundled in a blanket. The ratty shirt stuck out a bit.

"Of course nothing's wrong with him," the woman next to Noa had said when she'd found a place to buy diapers. "Babies throw up all the time." (This is how Noa learned it was normal). There was something unspoken in her tone, as if to say that any idiot would know nothing was wrong with Cort. The woman had a baby with her, too, who was dressed in a cute little outfit full of ruffles and bows, and who undoubtedly wasn't wearing an old shirt underneath it. The mother wasn't wearing anything fancy, but she definitely looked presentable, unlike Noa with the circles under her eyes, and the pajamas, and the scraggly hair. Noa looked down and away, getting her supplies and leaving, trying to avoid the stares. A hero turned into a mess, now that was something to look at. Someone whispered, "She's so young."

She got back, and she changed him (the shirt had been ruined by then, and even though it wasn't one of Noa's favorites, it still bothered her that it now belonged in the garbage), and there were a few minutes of peace and calm when Noa washed out one of the towels and put the diapers away. And then he started screaming. He started screaming and wailing, and after an hour or two, he still hasn't stopped screaming and wailing, and Noa's tried everything she could think of to do. She could lie down on the bed and try to sleep, but he'll keep at it all night, and she can't just leave him screaming. Something could be actually wrong. No, sleep isn't a possibility.

* * *

Noa doesn't have a great sense of time—so far, she had gotten by with going to bed whenever she felt tired, and getting up whenever she felt rested—but she knows she hasn't gotten enough sleep in these past few days to keep her going properly. Her appearance is one of the last things she thinks about, but she can tell her clothes are getting looser, and her hips are sticking out more than they used to. Cort shushes for a moment, and Noa breathes a sigh of relief, and coos that he's such a good boy. She tickles his chin with her finger, and he nods his head a little with the motion—then he opens his mouth and bites her. She screams, and nearly drops him, and is that blood? He's got a self-satisfied look on his little baby face, and then starts crying away again.

"I can't do this," she murmurs under her breath. She's not good enough at raising kids. It was all too sudden, her becoming a… what? Mother? Sister? Whatever she is, she's making a fool out of herself. But everybody else would look at Cort and see the madman who brought on the Mist, not someone who could grow and love and try again. Noa was just naïve enough to believe in him, just silly enough to give him a chance. It had to be her, there was nobody else to raise him, and really, _maybe_ Noa could do a decent job of it. Maybe. If he'd stop crying.

She looks around, desperate, and a flutter outside her window catches her eye. It's green, waving around in the wind and the fog. (She's getting used to fog, just as everyone else is—they all jump inside a little bit when they see it first, but then don't worry, don't worry, it's not the Mist. It's harmless.) She looks for a moment, squints a bit, because it has to be something or other, and she can't exactly tell what. It's rippling through the air, and maybe it's not much of anything, but it gives her a sense of peace.

_If Terra was here…_

It's not that Noa's denying what happened to Terra, what Terra sacrificed. It's just that Terra never really was alive in the same way Noa was. Terra didn't breathe, or eat, or sleep like a human, so why would she die in the same way that a human would, either? It was too sudden for it to be final, sudden like Cort becoming a baby, sudden like how the next day, she was alone, and there wasn't any Vahn or Gala to help her. If something like Terra had existed since… so long ago Noa couldn't picture it properly, then how could she disappear in the blink of an eye? She couldn't just be _nothing_ now. Maybe she was more like everything.

_Is there any reason_, Noa wonders, _that Terra's _not_ here?_ It couldn't be impossible. Terra was like the wind, and outside the window, Noa could see there was a breeze, since whatever it was out there was flapping about. And green, too. Green and floating, like Seru breeze. It couldn't be completely a coincidence.

What would Terra do in a situation like this?

Well, first of all, she wouldn't let it get to her that Cort was crying. Noa must have cried as a baby, too. Terra was never hurt, never fazed. She was a good (mother?) guardian to Noa. Whatever she was. She'd know that crying was just a baby's nature, biting, too. She'd stay calm, loving, maybe try again to see what would happen if she rocked Cort and sang to him. It wouldn't have been about Terra getting to sleep, it would have been about Cort calming down, and she would remember that. Even if it took a long time, she'd rock him and sing, sing and rock, wait for him to sleep. She'd know that eventually, he'd sleep, that all of this was just to make it easier. Above all, she would be patient. Perhaps she'd get Cort some warm milk, but what would count most of all—what would really get him to sleep—would be patience and love.

So Noa rocks him, and sings, and warms up some milk on the stove for him to drink from his bottle, and makes sure to keep a serene expression on her face. Her song's a little better, and the milk definitely helps, but the panic, the urgency, all of that is gone. Shortly after, he quiets down. It's not like before, when he bit her, but real sleep, with his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling evenly. And of course, it's because this is what Terra would have done.

Noa puts Cort to bed in his crib, and after tucking him in, collapses on her bed and sleeps more peacefully than she had for days.


	2. The Second Day

**Everything Green**

**2**. The Second Day

Rating: K, though it's probably just rated for safety  
Warnings: Spoilers. Really, that's it.  
Disclaimer: Don't own it.  
A/N: Thanks to LegaianForever for helping me work out some issues with this fic. Also, happy 2008.

* * *

Noa sees the world bathed in green light the next morning, peaceful and pale. For a second, she's a jittery little rabbit again, wondering, what was Cort doing being so silent? How was she going to keep up with him today? But then, it's gone again. She remembers last night, and she doesn't know how, but… _Terra._ Terra wasn't there in the room, or on her arm, but after last night, she knows even more that Terra's something again, not nothing, not gone.

Cort makes a cooing noise from his crib, and to Noa's surprise, he's all smiles and giggles. He's not biting her, or getting sick, but even if he did, she could handle it. Terra could have handled it, and Noa knew Terra better than anyone else did. It doesn't take her very long before they're both washed and dressed and ready for the day. For once, Noa has everything under control. They're not any more or less beautiful than they were yesterday, and they're certainly not high society, but their clothes are clean (although plain) and the bags beneath Noa's eyes are nearly gone. It's an incredible improvement from yesterday. Today she's good enough.

(and Noa remembers with a jolt, that yes, she's really an actual princess, like the ones in the fairy tales Terra used to tell her.) They're a prince and a princess, scraping by in a little room in Jeremi. She hasn't had her title for very long, or grown up in a palace surrounded by beauty and wealth and privilege, so she doesn't have that certain sense of how all of this is really so much less than a princess deserves. And it's not that changing babies or living in the room is beneath her, but she finds it a little funny in that ironic way that's more about being sad.

But the scraping by isn't going to last very long, because today they're scrubbed clean, and almost pretty, and almost like a family, albeit a very small one. _But it's not like there haven't been families of two before, _thought Noa. _It still counts. I'm doing this, I'm really doing this._ She's not proud, she's not shocked that she's finally capable, because it's not her that's doing this. It's Terra. Yes, it was Noa who sang to Cort, and rocked him and tucked him in, but it was Terra who showed her how. It doesn't matter that she didn't see Terra, or talk to Terra, because she was there, she was definitely there. She was there in the green, and she had to be behind this all somehow, because Noa couldn't have done it by herself in a million years. And there was that… whatever-it-was outside the window, too. It had to mean something, it just had to.

_Terra…_

Maybe it's not really Noa on her own who sees everything in green, either. It could have been Terra who started it, that whatever of Terra that still existed in some way. It could have been Terra who pushed the green forward, showing it to Noa and giving her a sign. And she had thought it was just her habit.

There are signs everywhere she looks.

* * *

Crowds have always made Noa nervous. At first, she couldn't believe all of the _people,_ just going about their business. Would they like her? Would they hate her? It was so important back then, even if 'back then' wasn't really very long ago at all. Now, it's a matter of getting through. All the people make her nervous— it's not like she's free to roam the marketplace by herself anymore. She's got a child she needs to keep safe, so she can't run around asking if everyone likes her or not—and she's worried people will think that she can't keep it together. They'll think she can't take care of Cort, and they'll glare at her, and they'll talk about her once she goes away. The thought scares Noa. Perhaps caring whether people liked her wasn't so far 'back then' after all.

Today, she braves the crowds. She knows she can. To her, it's a miracle transformation, although everyone around her might see only that there's nothing really too wrong today. She does her shopping with a smile on her face, Cort tucked in her arms. She can probably afford with the inheritance to get him some slightly better clothing. She has to make the money last, and she knows this, but she wants to give him everything she can. Terra would buy him clothes.

She's finding the best stall to shop at. This one's silly, with fancy silk clothes that couldn't have been made with real, messy babies in mind, and that one, no, the clothes are too restricting, too uncomfortable. Noa doesn't know a lot about babies, but Cort's made messes and wiggled and squirmed since she took him away with her, and maybe she knows a little more than she thinks. If Terra couldn't be there to advise her and help her make her decisions, then she'd at least want Noa to think it all through. She looks at the details, criticizes everything. It feels a little strange, but she needs to find what's best for Cort.

And she can't exactly see it, but she knows there are little green threads and fibers in some of the clothes that aren't exactly green themselves.

What if it isn't just her? Terra was _her_ Ra-Seru, but Terra wasn't any better or stronger than Meta or Ozma. Maybe Vahn and Gala felt it, too. And Terra… well, maybe the word "survive" doesn't really apply to something that was alive in such a strange way, but there's still a Terra, so somewhere out there, there's still a Meta and an Ozma, right? Noa pictures it, Vahn seeing everything in orangey reds, and Gala viewing the world in blue. She can't remember if there was much in the way of blue at Biron Monastery; Gala told her he would return once their journey was over, and Noa can't really think of him having any other sort of life. _I guess he made the right choice_. She doesn't know where Vahn is now. The best that she can explain it, he's an average Rim Elm boy, but at the same time he's not an average Rim Elm boy, and that's the problem. Gala knew exactly what he was going to do, and Noa didn't have a clue what she'd do until she saw Cort and knew that she had to take him away, but Vahn was somewhere in between.

"I thought I was going to grow up there," Vahn told Noa one day, when Gala wasn't exactly absent, but not right there, either. "I'd be a hunter, of course. That's just what everybody does there, and I'd marry Mei, because we've known each other forever. And that's what I wanted, Noa. I looked forward to it." He looked away from her then. "I'm not so sure anymore."

She keeps it a secret even still, but she doesn't want Vahn to marry Mei. Mostly, it's that he won't be as fun once he's married to someone like Mei. He'll have to grow up, not in the learning new things way, but in the stick in the mud way, and the Vahn she likes isn't a stick in the mud. There's also something she can't really put her finger on or justify, but can't really deny. No matter how hard she tries, there's no good reason not to want Vahn and Mei to get married. Mei's a good person. She also would probably do a better job raising Cort. Noa scowls at the thought. If Vahn was part of Mei's family, he couldn't be part of Noa's.

_But it doesn't matter now! Terra's back, and I can do this, I can really, really do this!_ She shouldn't think about Mei and Vahn. Terra wouldn't want her to. And now, Vahn's going to make the right decisions, because Meta's going to be there to help him out. Wherever he is, there might be red and there might not, but he'd find something to see.

Maybe she'd know where he is if she hadn't run away at the first opportunity.

But they can be a family again, Terra and Noa and Ozma and Gala and Meta and Vahn. Cort's a part of this family, too, and of course they'll be able to love him, she's sure of it. And maybe Gala will have to stay at the monastery sometimes, probably Ozma, too, but he'll still be part of the family. She can spend every day with Terra and Vahn (who'll bring Meta, and even though Noa never knew Meta very well, Vahn will be happier) and Cort, at least, and they'll all still be there, and time will pass (Noa knows what time does better than what babies do), but nothing's going to change in any way that matters. Nothing's lost for good.

It'll be absolutely perfect.

* * *

She buys the food for the week, and a couple of outfits for Cort. The clerk gives her a discount, too, maybe just because of what she's done, but Noa likes to think it's also because she has it together just so much. She stops thinking about Mei, and she's happy in her thoughts, because the future's laid out right in front of her.

The night goes smoothly, for the most part. There's an incident with spilled milk, and Noa trips over a sock on the floor, but she's got Terra's advice in mind. She can clean up the milk, or move the sock, and there's really no need for her to make a fuss over it. Cort cries a little, too, but she sings him back to sleep, calmly and prettily, even with her warbly little voice. It's not entirely her fault. She grew up with howling.

And in the window, there's that thing again, breezy and green. And _Oh, Terra! I've missed you so much, and I couldn't have done _any_ of this without you, and you're finally here again! _It's almost like Terra's in the room—of course Noa can't reach out and hug her, but with what Terra was, she hasn't been able to be hugged for a while, so it's okay. Terra can be there, and still untouchable. Terra still could help defend her, or give her advice on what to do, or even comfort her. It's almost hurtful when she thinks about how much love Terra gave.

But no, stop it, Terra's not really gone! She's right outside. Noa's about to go see her, about to run down the steps and out the door and Terra will be there, in that billowy thing, in everything.

And then Cort starts crying again. She checks him to make sure he's not hurt, and he isn't, at least not in any way he can tell. He needs to be changed, though, and Terra would want Noa to put Cort first, to take care of her baby brother (son?) before running out to see her. He's clean and dry, and she sings him to sleep again, howly and off-key but gently.

She doesn't feel the pull to go outside anymore. She's scared and nervous and she can't say why, but she's worried about what will happen if she goes to see Terra. It's the same sort of feeling before anything that's ever disappointed her, and she doesn't want this to go down that road. She can't go today, she won't. _Sorry, Terra. Tomorrow. I promise._


	3. The Last Day

**Everything Green**

**3**. The Last Day

Rating: K.  
Warnings: Spoilers, and... um, disappointment?  
Disclaimer: Don't own it.  
A/N: HOLY FRIJOLE I FINISHED SOMETHING MULTICHAPTER. Also I am no longer "The Mediocre Raven", but "Mrs. Abject" (mostly because I thought it was obvious that my old username was a joke, but people didn't realize it was a joke actually. Wow I've had a lot of coffee.) This took me long enough, sorry about that. Time to thank stuff! Thank you LegaiaForever for helping with this, thank you Legend of Legaia for being fun to write fanfics about, thank you coffee for being delicious.

* * *

Cort wakes Noa up again this morning, but that's fine, she's had enough sleep. Feeding him has become much easier these past two days, since now it's nothing to worry about when he drops a piece of food, or won't open his mouth. She just needs to stay patient. She just needs to keep going. It's not a shock or a horror when something goes wrong, just a little drag before something goes right again. Things can go a little wrong and it's still just fine. She's getting used to this feeling. It's not too hard to do what Terra would have done.

Why hadn't she gone to see Terra yesterday night? She had a good reason, of course—she needed to take care of Cort, and that's what Terra would have wanted. What Terra did, does want, because there's still a Terra, she's out there and thinking and wanting and caring. She's not just something what-if and gone, without any real opinion anymore, only with whatever thoughts and feelings the people who knew her (which was more or less only Noa) would claim that she thought and felt. Noa doesn't want to think like this. She won't. It doesn't matter what _could _have happened, even if it couldn't, because of course there's always been a Terra and there always will be.

She reassures herself, and she's deep in a muddle of concepts that she only half-understands when she notices that there's a piece of carrot stuck on Cort's cheek. She wipes it off, but then she's lost her place in her thoughts already. _But I don't have to prove it_, she thinks. _I can feel it. It doesn't matter. Terra's real._

* * *

There's a letter waiting for her, too. She's never gotten a letter before, only seen other people get them, but this couldn't be anything else, with the writing on the envelope and the little blob of wax sealing it together. She peels off the wax instead of breaking it—this is her first letter, and she figures that keeping everything intact is the right thing to do. She's receiving mail, for Tieg's sake. It's something people don't even think about, because normal people receive mail all the time. She's becoming more of a _person_ person, because of course she's always been human, but now she's able to do those fascinating things that other people do (even if it's not entirely normal to be so excited that now, Cort has a mother who knows how to get mail.)

She can't tell exactly who wrote her the letter. It's a short name, if what she's looking at is the name, but she knows plenty of people with short names. It could be from Vahn, or Gala, or even Cara, maybe. But a letter from Cara would probably be from Grantes, too, and that's definitely just one name that sent the letter, if in fact that's where the name would go. It's probably not from Mei, since her name is a little bit too short, and Mei isn't really the type to write Noa a letter. "Mei and Vahn", maybe, or "Vahn and Mei", but Noa hopes it's not either, because that would mean something like a wedding announcement, something like a family that Noa could never be part of. At least Mei can read.

Maybe Noa's doing more people things, like getting a letter, but she still can't even understand the things people write to each other.

But there's no point sitting around, wondering (or is that worrying?) about who wrote the letter. She brushes through her hair again and dresses Cort up in one of his little outfits. She'll already be admitting she can't read. She needs to at least look okay.

"Noa?" the neighbor asks her, a couple minutes later. "Is that you? Come on in!" This is the same neighbor who giggled when Noa fell down the stairs and dropped baby supplies all over the hallway, the same neighbor who Noa heard disapprovingly telling another woman about how Noa left Cort alone in the room (it wasn't really Noa's fault—she needed to rush out to buy the towel). Today the neighbor has a surprised tone in her voice. It's definitely approving.

"Could you read this letter for me?" Noa asks, after saying her hellos, and then she explains the situation. The neighbor laughs nervously, and agrees.

"It's from someone named Vahn," she says, even though everybody knows who Vahn is, and pointed to the name on the envelope. "See?" She spelled the letters out for Noa, as if she could teach Noa how to read just by pointing and reading out "V, A, H, N," and although Noa would never be able to recognize the letters again, she nodded along like she was learning. Then the neighbor unfolded the letter and began to read it.

Vahn misses Noa. He's worried about her, wonders if she and Cort are doing alright, and he wants to see her. He'd have helped her out if she hadn't left so quickly, and "_didn't you know how much we'd miss you, Noa?"_ He wants to come see her. There are things he wants to talk about, things that nobody else is really going to understand.

He never comes outright and says that it's Meta. He doesn't need to. He must have known that someone else would have to read her the letter—and he's written a wonderful letter, knowing that. Nothing in it is too personal, or embarrasses Noa around the neighbor. That's why Vahn didn't mention Meta. It must have been.

The neighbor helps Noa dictate out a response, and Noa doesn't know if it's because she genuinely cares, or because it's between Noa and Vahn, which makes it a little piece of history, makes her important. It doesn't matter to Noa. It's nice that the neighbor is helping her at all. Noa tells Vahn to come, and that she's looking forward to it. She tells him that she misses him, too, and that she didn't mean to make anyone worry when she ran away. (She won't exactly say she's sorry, because if she didn't do what she did, who knows where Cort would be? But what she did… it just wasn't fair.) She doesn't mention Terra. He already has to know. And Gala already knows, too, since Ozma just has to be back, too.

Her family is really going to happen.

* * *

Cort makes a burbling noise. It's getting later, and the sun has almost set. Noa's cleaned the room, with the floor swept and the counter washed and some kind of plant set on the table and everything, because the letter's on its way to Vahn, and since Vahn's going to come, everything needs to be perfect. It's not too much trouble, now that she knows what she's doing. No, now that she knows what Terra wants her to do.

It's almost a shame that she's done, she needs to stop, because she wants to keep going. She's not ready to proceed. She should be tucking Cort into bed right now, but it's almost as if she doesn't want the day to go by. It's still sunset. It isn't night yet. Noa can't say why she's afraid of the night, or even think it, but if only time could just stop and she could keep working on the room, then... well, if she let herself think about it, she probably understand, but it's not something she can let herself think about. Of course, she can't stop time. It's getting later, and Terra wouldn't have her keep Cort awake just because she was afraid of heaven-knows-what (really, Noa knows what, too.)

So Cort's in bed, and Noa's sung him to sleep. Now what? It's already getting darker and darker, and soon there's no light left at all, soon there's that little bit of green glow coming from outside. Noa's scared. She's scared, and she knows it's about Terra, but Noa needs to go see Terra today. She just has to. If she doesn't, then she won't see Terra the next day, or the day after. It's getting easier to say she's staying inside, to say that whatever she's doing is more important than Terra.

But surely there isn't anything important to do? Nothing in the room that needs to be done? Nothing that Cort needs? Noa looks around. The room isn't perfect, but it's as good as she can make it. It's a room that will make Vahn think, "Wow, Noa can take care of herself." And Cort… he's sound asleep. She can't make an excuse. She can't stand that she's sitting around, making excuses.

Terra would want to see her, right? Terra would feel bad if Noa didn't go to see her, right? Of course Terra would want Noa to do her best in taking care of Cort, but there wasn't anything to do at the moment. She had the time, and Terra, who loved her so much, would be hurt more than Noa could even imagine if she didn't go to see her. Terra had given Noa so much love, and it would be only fair for Noa to love her back. It's what Terra would have wanted.

It's now or never.

She's trembling at first, walking herself to the door, and opening it—making herself open it, because she's scared of what she's going to see—and then she's off and running, down the stairs and outside, looking at the ground because she can't make herself look up, can't make herself see…

Nothing.

"Terra?" she calls, softly. There's no response. No Terra.

There's light from the room above her, and there's the empty space where whatever it was used to be. But there's nothing green, nothing rippling. Noa looks again, unable to believe her eyes. Whatever doubts she had, really, she's sorry, really, she'd believed.

And across the square from Noa, there's a man headed in the direction of some of the houses, carrying some kind of cloth, or tarp, or something. Noa can't tell exactly what it was, but even in the poor light, she can see that it's green. She won't let herself look at it. It was the wind, and the light, and she doesn't have to understand it perfectly to know that it's not Terra, and it never was.

She's in the room again, and she locks the door before she really lets herself cry. It's sudden, it's for the family she had, and the family she'd only found before she lost them for good, and the impossible family she thought for sure she was going to have. It's for Terra, and she's trying not to think about "gone" or "dead", but she does. She probably needs to. And maybe Terra's not nowhere. Maybe Terra's in the same place that Noa's someday going to end up.

Noa cries because at least for now, she's all alone.

Until she hears a loud shriek, louder than her own sobs, and she remembers that she's not. Cort's awake again, and a baby needs to sleep. Noa needs to make sure he's okay. She gets up, and it's not as if she stopped crying, because she hasn't, but she's under control enough so she can sing one of her howly, warbly lullabies that Cort doesn't even seem to mind, under control enough to hold him and rock him, and stay calm. She's crying, but she's quiet.

She tries thinking of what Terra would do, but she's taking the advice before she can even think up a Terra to say it. It doesn't matter, because Terra _isn't_ there, even if Noa imagines it, and of course she can't pretend once she knows that she's pretending. She can raise Cort, but not because Terra's saving her, but because she simply knows what to do.

It's a lonely realization. She looks around her, and sees the grey floor, the blue towel, the red flowers. She sees Cort's violet eye, before both of his eyes close, and once again, he's asleep. She won't wake him up this time.

She brushes her tears away, and almost accidentally, she looks into the mirror. Her hair's under control, her clothes are clean, and the only thing really wrong with her appearance is her red, puffy eyelids, and the tear tracks on her face. But she doesn't notice any of that. The only thing she really sees are her own green eyes. It's not the whole world, and it's not Terra. Somehow, it's enough.


End file.
